Bite Me, Conlon
by Sunnydale107
Summary: This is the story of Spot Conlon, a fiesty red head and three little words that if taken literally can drive a hormonal newsie crazy. Pyro O'Shea is forced to share a room with Spot after she makes a mistake. Pyro and Spot clash. Rated for cursing and sex
1. In the Beginning

Disclaimer: Don't own Newsies or the characters affiliated with it. Wish I did but I don't. The only character I own is Pyro.

* * *

"Bite me, Conlon." The fiery red head spat as she turned around and stormed off in the opposite direction.

That was one phrase that Pyro O'Shea had used practically every day over the years. It was the one phrase that would irritate Spot Conlon. When they were kids, it would irritate him because he did not really understand it. Neither did she and he knew it. As they got older, it would infuriate him for other reasons especially once puberty set it. Now, he was seventeen and she was sixteen. To two teenagers, that phrase could be taken to a whole new level. Their friendly spats would turn to arguments and fights that were spawned from tension.

"You're gonna pay for that later!" Spot called out to her. He noticed her hand fly up with its middle finger sticking up and shook his head.

They were too much alike and at the same time, they were very different. Over the years, they had learned just what it took to push the other over the edge of anger and sanity. Usually, Pyro would push Spot purposely because she just enjoyed seeming him get angry over nothing. Spot would push Pyro accidentally because he was not afraid to tell her what he thought of her. Sometimes, he loved being in her presence especially when she would give him advice about being a leader from a girl's perspective. The rest of the time, he wanted to hit her and hard.

They had met in the Refuge when she was only eight and he was nine. Pyro was put in there for setting things on fire and pick pocketing. Spot was in there for fighting. From the first moment, the tiny red head laid eyes on the soon to be leader of the Brooklyn newsies, she could tell that he was going to be trouble. Spot, however managed to behave himself long enough to get let out of the Refuge in just a few months. Pyro was not so lucky. She was unable to control her boredom and curiosity. She always wondered what things would look like if she had set them on fire. That's why Snyder had to move his office.

Pyro had decided to take a match to the warden's office when she was ten. She just got sick of him treating the kids like they were nothing but mere money makers for his own personal use. By the time she had been set free at the age of twelve, Spot Conlon had already made a name for himself as a newsie. He was only thirteen but he had taken the rule of Brooklyn's newsboys.

Spot had run into Pyro on the streets of Brooklyn in 1895. She had been watching him for weeks without him even noticing. Finally, one hot July afternoon, her fingers were itching for something to take. Eying the slingshot in his back pocket, she knew it would be fun to set on fire. As he passed the hiding girl in the alley, she snatched the slingshot. Being the ruthless leader that he was, Spot was quick on his feet. The second he felt the hand reach to his back pocket, he turned around and grabbed her wrist. Looking down at the girl in front of him, he noticed that she looked familiar. Shoulder length red hair, framed her face. Dark brown eyes sparkled with mischief. It was his favorite vocal sparring partner from the Refuge. "Heard you were a leader now. Had to see it for myself." The dirty girl in front of him grinned.

From that day forward, Pyro lived with the Brooklyn newsboys. She was even given her own room. The only other person that had his own room was Spot. Their rooms were right next to each other. They never really had any room problems until Spot start bringing random girls home at night. The last thing a girl needed to hear while she was trying to sleep was the sighs and moans of a one night stand. Deep down inside, it had bothered Pyro for other reasons but she hadn't realized it at the time.

Spot was not sure of the exact day that he started to realize that Pyro was no longer that skinny, little girl he had met so many years before. She had stopped growing at about five feet tall but she had filled out in all the right places. Unbeknownst to himself, Spot wanted Pyro.

Even if Pyro had known that she was attracted to Spot, she probably would never have admitted it anyway. Those blue eyes alone were enough to draw any girl in. But, Pyro was an independent girl and she did not enjoy taking orders from a guy that shared the name with numerous spotted puppies in the world. Then, one night, Pyro made a big mistake.

It was late one June night and Spot had one of his random girls over. Lying awake in her bed, Pyro played with the silver lighter she had stolen from some rich guy. Before she knew it, the curtains were on fire and things got worse from there. The entire room ignited in flames and she jumped out of bed. Running out of the room with what she could salvage, she woke up Mr. Beckett, the man in charge of the lodging house. After the fire department had finished putting out the fire, the room was ruined.

Standing in front of the lodging house, Mr. Beckett thanked the firemen and then went on to give Pyro the lecture of a lifetime. She had accidentally screwed up her and Spot's living arrangements that night. Mr. Beckett had told them that Pyro was to move into Spot's room and they had to share and then went inside.

Spot gave Pyro an icy glare. "Nice going. You just ruined my life."

Pyro stared right back at him. "Bite me, Conlon." Then, she went inside to start moving into his room.

Neither had known it at the time but, Pyro's big mistake was about to make them realize just how they felt about each other in the depths of their souls.


	2. Not a Morning Person

Someone once said that you should not go to bed angry. Spot Conlon had never heard those words and if he did, he did not listen to them. Not only was his "friend" forced to leave because of Pyro's actions, he now had to share a room and a bed with her. Spot liked having his own space. Now, he was forced to give up his favorite side of the bed because Pyro liked the side against the wall. It made her feel safe that she would not roll out of bed. There were other problems. Pyro's feet were in constant motion, always twitching and rubbing together, even as she slept. Then, there was the fact that she hogged all of the blankets. These were only the problems that Spot had to deal with while he was trying to sleep. Waking up in the morning was a whole different story.

Saying that Pyro was not a morning person would be an understatement. Everyone knew to stay clear of her in the morning. Now, not only did Spot have to wake her up but he had to deal with her after she got out of bed.

It was now three days after Pyro had accidentally set her room on fire. Using his cane, Spot nudged Pyro. "Hey, get outta bed!" Pyro did not move. "You leave me no choice, then." He muttered as he stood at the foot of the bed and yanked the blankets off of her.

The moment Pyro felt the cool morning air on her skin, her eyes shot open and she sat straight up in bed. She never said much in the mornings but her actions spoke for her. Getting out of bed, her bare feet touched the floor. Without a word, she grabbed the blanket and threw it at him. On the small night stand next to the bed, she picked up her lighter and her slingshot. Pushing her chin length bangs out of her face, she stepped over a pile of dirty clothes. Being a messy roommate was another problem Spot had with Pyro.

On the other side of the room was another pile of clothes. Picking up a shirt and a pair of pants, she sniffed them just to make sure they were clean. Not even caring that the shirt and pants did not belong to her and that they actually belonged to Spot, Pyro grumpily made her way to the door. Spot opened his mouth to say something but she cut him off. "Don't care that these are your clothes. They're clean." She mumbled. With her hand on the doorknob, she shot him a glare. "And, if you ever nudge me with that fucking cane again in the morning, I'm going to take it from you and shove it up your ass horizontally. Then, I'll light you on fire."

As Pyro opened the door and stepped into the hallway, Spot called after her. "I liked you better when you were sleeping."

The short red head turned around and shrugged. "Then, you should have left me that way." And, with those words, Pyro went into the washroom to get ready.

Twenty minutes later, Pyro emerged from the washroom, looking more awake. With two braids in her red hair, she grabbed her gray cap and put it on. After rolling up her pants a few times on each leg, she made her way down the stairs and outside. Standing on the sidewalk with a cigarette in his mouth, Spot looked up at her. "I need your lighter."

"Bite me, Conlon." Pyro looked at him. She did not like to let other people touch her lighter. With a shrug, she walked towards him and then past him.

As she made her way past him, Spot grabbed her by the arm and spun her so that she was facing him. Not saying a word, he shoved his hand into her right pocket and retrieved the lighter. With a smug grin, he flicked opened the lighter and lit his cigarette. He noticed that Pyro's eyes flashed to an almost black color. Then, he put the lighter back in her right pocket, letting his hand linger for a moment. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, Conlon?" She grabbed him by the wrist and pulled his hand out of her pocket. Then, she walked away.

Spot shook his head and followed her. As he fell in step with her, he took a drag from his cigarette. "Where are you going?"

"To get away from you." Pyro looked at him. "And, unfortunately, it's not working because you're following me."

"Eh, you know you love having me follow you."

"You turn into stalker now or something?" A smile spread across her face. She was starting to snap out of her morning mood swing.

"No one in their right mind would stalk you." He teased.

"What makes you think you're in your right mind?" She grabbed the cigarette from him and took a drag.

"Glad to see that you're done being pissed at the world." He took the cigarette back. "Because, isn't today Friday?"

Pyro stopped and looked at him. "I am not going to settle your bets for you. You can get your own fucking money from Race."

Every Friday afternoon, Pyro would accompany Manhattan's own Racetrack Higgins to the races. She gambled very little when she was there. She mostly went to be in the company of someone that was not a brute from Brooklyn and to see the horses. Everyone seemed to think that Pyro liked animals more than she liked people. There were often times when that were true.

Spot glared at her. "I'm not asking you to do it. I'm telling you. And, you better not come back to Brooklyn until you have my money in your hands." He put his hands on her shoulders and stared into her brown eyes. "Because I have no problems with soaking a girl especially one that gets under my fucking skin as much as you do." With that as his warning, he turned and walked away.

"Bite me, Conlon!" Pyro called out after him and then she headed for Manhattan.


	3. Not So Lucky

The entire walk to Manhattan, Pyro found herself cursing Spot and thinking of ways to get back at him. After picking up about fifty newspapers from the Manhattan distribution office and selling them quickly, she strolled towards Newsies Square. Standing next to the Horace Greeley statue was Racetrack Higgins with a cigar in his mouth. He back was towards Pyro. Swiftly; she snuck up behind him and placed her hands over his eyes. "Guess who." She said in her best French accent, trying to disguise her voice.

With a smile, Race pulled her hands off of his face and turned around to look at her. Gently putting a hand under her chin, he examined her. "Pyro, you're… not bruised and beaten up. You're still living."

Pyro shrugged. "I'm guessing you heard about my mishap.'

"Burned down your own room, huh?" He shook his head and put the cigar out on the street. "I thought for sure you'd either be swimming with the fishes in the East River or at least walking with a limp."

"It was just an accident." They started walking down the street. "Plus, you know I could soak Conlon."

"That was a rather big accident, don't ya think?" He looked at her.

"More like the biggest mistake in my life!" She let out an exasperated sigh.

"You gotta sleep in the bunkroom with the boys, huh?"

"No." She rolled her eyes. "There weren't any free beds in the bunkroom."

"Did they throw you out on the street?"

"Worse." She replied. Race gave her a confused look. "I was forced to move into Conlon's room! Do you know what it's like to share a room with an egotistical, arrogant, ill-tempered, skirt chasing maniac?"

"Poor Pyro." Race shook his head and placed a friendly arm around her shoulders. "Wait till I tell Cowboy about this. We may even bet on whose gonna crack first. I personally would put my money on Spot because you sure know what pisses him off."

Pyro made a face. "Speaking of bets… Conlon says I can't go back to Brooklyn until I get the money you owe him. I told him to settle his own fucking bets but you know him."

"I've got the money right here." He took the money out of his pocket and placed it in her hand. "I had a feeling he might want you to get the money." He laughed slightly.

Pocketing the money, Pyro thought for a moment. "So, what did you bet on anyway?"

"Guy stuff." Race shrugged.

"You bet on how long it would take Conlon to get his latest conquest into bed, didn't ya?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"How do you know these things?"

"I know guys." She shrugged. "Especially you and Conlon."

With a laugh they continued to their destination. A day at the races was just what Pyro needed to keep her mind off of her new roommate. Unfortunately, Racetrack's bets were way off and he ended up losing all of his money. Feeling sorry for him, Pyro took the money he had given her out of her pocket. "Take this but let's stop with the betting and head home now."

Race looked at her. "Yeah, but Spot…"

Pyro shook her head. "Conlon doesn't need the money and I'm not scared of him."

"You sure?" He looked at the money.

"Positively sure." She placed the money in his hand.

"We should probably leave now." He put the money in his pocket. Pyro nodded and they left so they wouldn't spend anymore money.

The walk back to Brooklyn seemed to go by quickly for Pyro. That was probably because she had to actually tell Spot that she returned sans his money. Pulling her hair out of its braids, she let the wavy tendrils fall to her shoulders. As she passed the docks, she noticed Spot talking with some of the other Brooklyn boys. Thinking she could just sneak past them without being noticed, she lit a cigarette and took a drag.

Spot noticed a flash of red hair, stroll past the docks. The clothes on that body belonged to him. He knew it could only be one person. "Pyro." He walked away from his conversation. Usually, she would have come right up and interrupt his conversation. When she did not do what was expected, he knew she did not have his money. Anger boiled inside of him. She was not to come back without his money. She had deliberately disobeyed him.

Even though it was just about dusk, the air was warm and stifling. Unbuttoning the shirt she was wearing, Pyro pulled it off and tied it around her waist. The white undershirt that she wore accentuated her curves. Suddenly, an eerie feeling swept over her and she could feel that someone was following her with their eyes glued to her body. She slowly slid her hand into her right pocket, placing her hand on her lighter. The feeling in her grew stronger and she knew that whoever was following her was right behind her now. Fighting in the middle of the street had gotten her into trouble before. So, she turned into an alley.

Ducking behind some crates, Pyro knelt down and waited for her stalker to approach. The moment she saw the shadow of the figure next to her, she jumped up with her lighter in her hand and pinned Spot Conlon against a brick wall.


	4. Some Strange Realizations

"Pyro, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Spot glared, catching his breath.

Staring wide eyed at him, Pyro eased up and put the lighter back into her pocket. "What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are you doing? You should know better than the sneak up on me like that! I almost burned your face off… that might be an improvement though." She let out a sigh of relief that she did not have to fight someone just yet. Then, she turned to walk away because she remembered about the money.

It was Spot's turn to do the pinning as he grabbed her by the arm and did to her as she did to him just moments before. "Where's my money?" He could not help himself as he stared at her chest.

"I'm not telling you until you ask me to my face." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Stop staring at my chest!" She demanded bluntly.

Making a face, he shook his head and looked into her eyes. "Get over yourself. So, where's my money?" He placed his hands on the wall on either side of her to make sure she would not run away.

"The money that you won just by fucking some girl?" Pyro glared at him. "I let Race keep it. He had a bad day and lost all of his money. I felt bad for him. Yeah, that's right I felt bad because unlike you, I have feelings of sympathy for people other than myself."

"I told ya not to come back without it." Spot looked her over. He didn't know why but he could not keep his eyes off of her body. Now, he couldn't think of anything to say. He always knew what to say to Pyro.

"And, I told ya to settle your own fucking bets." With a smile, she ducked down and went under his right arm. That was one of the advantages about not being very tall. She could get her way out of almost any close situation that she did not want to be in.

Spot was taken back by her sudden escape from him. Searching his brain for something to say, he was stumped. The only thing he could think to do was follow her and that's what he did. "I want my money." He stated as he fell in step with her.

Pyro gave him a glance. "I see that you still have your arms and legs. Walk to Manhattan and get the money yourself."

"The whole idea of you getting it for me was so that I didn't have to go." He watched her as she pulled out a cigarette and lit it. As she put the cigarette to her lips to take a drag, he was suddenly struck by her beauty. Oh, how he wished to be that cigarette.

"That's really not my problem." She exhaled, blowing some smoke into the air. "Although, I see why you would want to get your money from that bet now. I mean, you won't be making bets like that anymore now that you've gotta share your bed with me. Because let me tell you something right now: I will not spend a night in the boys bunkroom just so you can have an easy fuck."

"Ya know for a girl, you've got a pretty dirty mouth." He smirked at her. That was one of the reasons why he liked her. It's not like he'd ever admit that though.

"That's what I get for spending so much time with you." She ran a hand through her hair. It seemed as if his anger had just disappeared and so her tension had been eased. "I like my dirty mouth. It gives me character."

As they stood in front of the lodging house, Spot looked at her and grinned. Then the question that he didn't even know he wanted to know the answer to came. "So, you talk like that when you're fucking a guy?" The words came out so fast and he couldn't stop them.

Pyro's eyes flashed dark brown and she was going to punch him right then and there. Fighting back the urge to slug him, she just glared at him. Then, she felt something inside of her change. Her heart had just skipped a beat. Spot Conlon wanted to know what she was like in bed. That frightened her slightly and at the same time it made her want him. But, Pyro O'Shea would never do anything to purposely make him happy. Dropping the cigarette on the ground and putting it out, she took a few steps towards him until she was only about an inch away from his face. A grin spread across her face. "Bite me, Conlon." She turned around and walked up the front steps and into the lodging house.


	5. She Needs a Savior

The second Pyro heard the lodging house door close behind her, she raced up the stairs and into Spot's room, not realizing that he was right behind her. She had to get herself out of a strange situation. Dropping to her knees, next to the bed, she searched for something under the bed. Pulling out a black, leather-bound book, she hugged it to her chest as she stood up. The door opened and Spot looked at her as she sat on the bed. As she started writing in the book, he plopped down next to her, trying to read what she was writing. Closing the book, she glared at him. "Stop trying to read my journal."

For a moment, Spot looked at her. Then, he put a hand on her thigh. "Well, how else am I supposed to find out what you're like in bed if you won't tell me?"

"You're not supposed to find out." Pyro let the journal fall between the bed and the wall. "And, if you ever read my journal, I swear I will make you pay so bad that you'll wish you were blind."

"You could just show me what you're like in bed." He noticed that she had not pushed his hand away. A smirk spread across his face as he moved his hand up her thigh.

"You already know." She discreetly slid her right hand into her pocket. "I sleep on the side next to the wall, my feet are always moving and I hog all the covers." As she pulled her lighter out of her pocket, she stared at him. "Now, if you don't move your hand, I will be forced to light it on fire."

Spot rolled his eyes at her and moved his hand. She was toying with him. "Fuck you." He spat as he stood up and walked out of the room.

"You'd like that, wouldn't ya?" Pyro called out to him. When she noticed that he was gone, she reached down between the bed and the wall and retrieved the journal. That's when she started to write in the journal.

_June 2, 1899_

_I hate myself for what I've done. I just had to play with that stupid lighter and set my own room on fire. Now, I'm stuck here. I have to share a room and a bed with Conlon! I'm going to kill him. I can just feel it._

_He gets me up at a time when no human should be forced out of a slumber. And, that god forsaken cane! The next time he pokes me with it, it's going in a place that will make him walk funny for the rest of his life. _

_He was acting odd just a few minutes ago. So was I. I guess it started when I caught him staring at my chest. Hey, it's not my fault that in inherited these things. But, Conlon never looks at me like that. Or maybe he does and I'm just too distracted by other things to notice. Then, he said something about my dirty mouth. He asked me if I talked like that in bed. Since when does Spot Conlon care about what I'm like in bed? You know what the worst part is? I was about to slug him and trust me, I would have but then I just couldn't. I'll admit that for a moment, I was scared because he has never taken an interest in me like that. Then, I felt like I wanted to jump him right there! _

_To get myself out of the situation, I told him to bite me like I always do and I ran inside to write it in here. But, Conlon's so damn pushy. He followed me, sat next to me and put his hand on my thigh. The crazy thing: I didn't make him move it right away! I do not have feelings for him. Ok, so he is kind of sexy but I could never actually be with him. I better stop writing now before he comes back._

Pyro thought for a moment and decided to hide the journal behind the small night stand next to the bed.

The whole next week, Spot continued with his advances towards Pyro. She was in his head now and he wanted her. Never taking action or saying anything in front of anyone, he only pushed her when no one else was around. Pyro was defiant and always had been. As bad as she wanted to give in, she just would not let herself fall for his lines. Her reasoning for Spot's advances was simply that they had spent too much time together and he was not able to get any other girls.

That Saturday night was a poker night in Manhattan. Pyro was not a poker player. She never picked up on how to play. Spot had tried to show her numerous times but neither one had the patience to deal with the other. Usually, they ended up fighting and Pyro would throw the cards at him. The only reason why she was going to Manhattan was to see her friends there and have a few drinks. Of course, she and Spot argued the whole way there but it was a typical Saturday night.

As usual, Pyro sat between Spot and Racetrack. This was all Spot's idea from the beginning. He figured, he could get Pyro to look at Race's cards and then signal him what they were. She never did it for him though. She just liked to watch her favorite and not so favorite newsboys gamble themselves into the ground.

It was obvious to everyone that the tension between Spot and Pyro was thicker. No one said anything out of fear of either getting punched by Spot or burned by Pyro. Halfway through the fifth game, Pyro had moved from beer to whiskey. She only drank the whiskey when she was under terrible stress. Taking Spot's shot glass; she swigged the whiskey and made a face. "Damn, this stuff is disgusting."

Jack Kelly, the leader of the Manhattan newsies gave her a look. "Under some stress there, Pyro?" The moment the words came out of his mouth, he started kicking himself on the inside. Pyro was known for pouring out her problems when she was drinking and under a lot of stress.

"Five, four, three, two, one." Race counted down as he watched the girl next to him adjust herself to tell her story.

"Stress? You wanna know about my stress?" Pyro looked around the table as she felt a hand on her leg. Turning her head, she glared at him. "You try sharing your life with the biggest asshole in the history of mankind. But, I have no one to blame but myself, right?" They all looked at her. "Wrong! Because if I was not under so much stress and tension in the first place from said asshole, I would not have been playing with the fucking lighter in the bed to begin with. Then, yesterday, I was minding my own business, walking home from the races and I get approached by probably one of the only other biggest assholes in the world. Fucking Oscar Delancey is still fucking obsessed with me. He thought he could seduce me or something and I'd fuck him. Boy was he wrong. I slugged him right then and there. And, you'd think my life isn't bad enough with one asshole chasing after me like a dog in heat. Well, now I've got two!"

"Pyro, you better shut up now." Spot tightened his grip on her leg.

"So, who is this other asshole?" Jack raised an eyebrow. "Should we find him and soak him?"

"Be my guest!" Pyro threw her hands up in the air. "He's right…" Spot's hand clamped over her mouth and he dragged her up from her seat. Squirming and yelling obscenities from under Spot's hand, Pyro was pulled into the hallway by him. "Conlon, I'm going to fucking kill you!" She spat the second he released her.

"There is no need for you to be telling the world about every single one of your fucking problems." Spot glared at her. "And you know that you want to fuck me as bad as I want to fuck you." He said softly so no one could hear him.

Shaking her head, she knew he was right. But, she was furious with him at the moment. "Bite me, Conlon." She turned around and ran down the stairs and out of the lodging house.

Spot sighed. He knew he had to go after her but he wanted to give her a few minutes, hoping that she would cool down by the time he got to her. Of course, he would probably just say the wrong thing again because he was feeling pretty tipsy himself. That thought never occurred to him though.

Pyro played with her lighter as she walked down the street. Muttering to herself about how much she hated Spot, she did not even notice the tall, dark figure step onto the sidewalk with her. By the time he fell in step with her, it was too late. Looking up at the figure next to her, she stared into the eyes of Oscar Delancey. "Fuck off, Delancey." She spat.

Grabbing her by the arm, he threw her into an alley. "The only thing I'll be fucking is you tonight, baby." He looked her over. She was wearing a dress for once in her life. "Must be poker night with the boys. That's the only time you get all gussied up and wear a dress. Easier access for me."

Standing up, she flicked the lighter. "Fuck you!"

"Fuck me yourself." He shoved her against the wall hard, knocking the lighter out of her hand and hiked her dress up.

"Only in your dreams." Pyro kneed him in the groin. As Oscar doubled over in pain, she pushed him out of the way and felt around blindly for her lighter. Then, she felt his hand on her leg and he pulled her to the ground.

Taking out a knife, he shook his head. "I'll shut ya up if I have to." He put the knife to her throat. Struggling beneath him, she managed to move the knife away from her throat. She felt the blade cut into her cheek as she pushed Oscar's hand away. "Come on, this'll be fun."

"I'll scream." Pyro felt the ground underneath her. Nothing. Where was her slingshot? Still sitting on the poker table.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Oscar grinned as he put the knife in his back pocket and unfastened his pants. Still feeling around on the ground for something, anything, Pyro cut her hand on something. A broken beer bottle. Gripping onto the bottle tightly, she waited for him to make his next move. "You can't fight for nothing without your fire."

"Oh yeah? You wanna see me fight without my fire?" As he leaned down to kiss her, she brought the broken bottle up and thrust it into his back. It stuck there and Oscar rolled off of her in pain.

Standing up, Pyro noticed her lighter on the ground and reached for it. As her hand clasped around the lighter, Oscar's hand grabbed her wrist. She thought for sure he was going to bring her down again. Just as Oscar tugged at her wrist, she felt someone wrap their arms around her waist and pull her out of his grasp. The alley was dark and she could not see her savior. All she saw was that he kicked Oscar in the stomach and then spit on him. Then, the savior grabbed her by the hand and they hurried out of the alley.

Standing in the glow of the street lamp, Pyro finally got a look at the guy who had saved her. Looking into his blue eyes, she was almost in tears. Then, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "Thank you, Spot." She whispered as she felt his arms wrap around her.


	6. The Aftermath

As they pulled away from their hug, they stood there in an awkward silence. Pyro had never in her life called him Spot. He was always Conlon to her. He was also pretty sure that she had never thanked him for anything. Spot summed it all up to the fact that she must still have been shaken from her encounter with Oscar. But, it would take more than a run in with Oscar Delancey to shake Pyro's nerves. After all, she did a pretty good job of fighting back. Reaching into his back pocket, Spot pulled out her slingshot. "I told ya to never leave this thing behind." He handed it to her.

Pyro took it from him but with her left hand. She was right handed and always used her right hand for everything. "Yeah, I really could have used that."

Spot raised an eyebrow and took her right hand. It was cut pretty deeply from the broken bottle. A little bit of blood trickled down onto the street. Taking a step closer, he noticed the cut on her cheek as well. "Are you ok?" He looked her over. She was dirty and her red hair was sticking up in various places.

"I'm alright." She shrugged, thinking about what had happened. "But, I would like to go home and get some sleep."

He nodded. "We'll just get you back inside and wrap up your cuts and then we can head back to Brooklyn."

Looking into his eyes, she shook her head. "Just walk me home now. If we go into that lodging house, I am going to be bombarded with questions. And, one thing that irritates the hell out of me more than you do is being bombarded with questions."

Spot opened his mouth to protest but then stopped himself. There was no point in arguing with Pyro. Once her mind was made up, there was no changing it. Stubborn could have been her name. "You're feeling alright to walk all the way back to Brooklyn?"

"I'm not dead yet, Conlon." Pyro flashed a smile and started walking up the street.

The walk to Brooklyn was the complete opposite of the walk from Brooklyn. They did not argue. They barely even talked. Spot could not help but walk extra close to Pyro. He felt as if he even took his eyes off of her for a second then something bad might happen. Pyro walked quickly. She just wanted to get back to the lodging house and have a good night's sleep. The fact that she was almost raped by Oscar Delancey seemed to just be a nightmare and not something that could be real.

Once they were alone in Spot's room, Pyro quickly got out of her dress. The urge to burn it swept over her but she controlled herself. Sitting in just her undergarments on the bed, Spot took a seat next to her and started washing off the dirt and blood. "I'm sorry." Spot whispered, almost inaudible as he cleaned the cut on her face.

Pyro grabbed his wrist and just stared at him. "What?" She asked in surprise. Did Spot Conlon just apologize for something? What was he apologizing for? "I mean… why?"

He sighed heavily. "Why? Because you almost got raped by that fucking jackass. And, it's my fault. If I wasn't such a perverted bastard, you would not have walked out alone like that."

Pyro kept her eyes on his face. He looked sincere and worried. "It's not your fault. The only person to blame for this is Oscar. I would never even think to blame you for this. As much as we argue and as much as I wanna light ya on fire at times, I know you could never do something that malicious." Then she smiled and hugged him. "You're a pretty damn good friend."

Spot smiled as well as he hugged her back. They were having a moment and he wanted to savor it. Inhaling lightly, he took in her scent. "Never thought I'd hear you say those words to me." He laughed as they pulled away.

Pyro just yawned. "Well, they're true." She lay back on the bed. Before he had known it, she was fast asleep.

The next morning, Pyro woke up to find that she was snuggled up against Spot. This was strange for two reasons: she was awake before he was and they were cuddled up together. With a smile on her face, she closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

A few hours later, Pyro had woken up again to find that she was alone. Climbing out of bed, she quickly got dressed and headed downstairs. Mr. Beckett was there sweeping up the floor. Looking at the girl, he smiled. "Glad to see you finally got up."

"What time is it?" Pyro asked, tucking some hair behind her ears.

"Ten." Mr. Beckett replied. He noticed the cut on her face. "Spot said you had a bad night and he figured he could let you sleep in. Did you get into a fight with someone?"

"Yeah, you could say that." She said as she ran out the door to find Spot and possibly kill him for letting her sleep this late.

It was not hard to find Spot. It was obvious that he would be at the docks like he always was after he had finished selling his newspapers. As she approached the docks, Pyro could see him standing there and talking to one of the other guys. Walking briskly, she pushed the guy out of her way and just glared at Spot for a second. "Conlon, why the fuck didn't you get me up? I need to make money you know."

Spot let out a frustrated sigh. "First, you complain about when I do get you up and then you complain when I don't get you up. Is there any pleasing you?"

"Just answer my damn question!" Pyro demanded.

"I just thought you could use a day to sleep in." He looked at her. "After what happened last night, I thought that maybe you'd appreciate a little bit of rest."

Pyro's expression softened. Sympathy from Spot Conlon was not something she was used to. "Oh. Thanks." That's all she could manage to say.

"But, I can tell that you're still your same old self." He smirked at her. "So, it's back to selling tomorrow."

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want." She grinned.

Both Spot and Pyro knew that they were acting just to keep people from questioning their behavior. On the inside, they both felt a strange new feeling towards one another.

The next few days were terribly irritating for Pyro. Spot followed her everywhere. She knew he was just being overprotective of her. He was just making sure nothing else bad would happen. The poor girl could barley go pee on her own without Spot two steps behind her.

Finally, late on Thursday night, Pyro knew she had to confront Spot and tell him to stop following her and worrying about her. With her journal and a pencil in her hand, she headed up to the roof to do some writing before she had to confront him. As she stepped out the window, Spot came into the room but she did not notice him. Climbing up the fire escape, she was followed by him. Taking a seat where she could see the stars the best, she opened her journal and began to write, still unaware of Spot's presence.

_June 8, 1899_

_Something terrible almost happened to me on Saturday night. We went to Manhattan for poker night. I got to drinking and started going on about my problems. Before I knew it, I was fighting with Conlon (no big surprise there). Too angry to deal with him, I walked out of the lodging house._

_While I was walking down the street, I get approached by this dark figure. Who is this person? Oscar Delancey! He dragged me into an alley and tried to rape me. I fought back of course. I finally stuck a broken bottle in his back and that got him down good. But, when I went to grab my lighter, he grabbed my wrist. That's when it happened._

_With Oscar's hand on my wrist, I felt someone wrap their arms around my waist and pull me away. The alley was dark and I didn't see who it was. This person kicked Oscar and then spit on him. _

_When we got out into the street, I noticed who had saved me. SPOT CONLON! _

_Ever since then, things have been weird. We still argue but I feel like it's more just to keep everyone from questioning our behavior changes if we were not arguing. The only problem is that he is now following me everywhere to make sure nothing bad happens again. It's sweet and all but it's also a bit frustrating. So, now I have to tell him to stop it._

_I'm kind of scared to tell him. I'm not afraid of him. I just don't want him to think that I'm ungrateful. Normally, I would never even care what he thinks about me. However, now I do care. I don't know what's happening to us. Maybe, I have feelings for him… NO! I can't have feelings for the biggest egomaniac in the world. Can I?_

"What are you writing about?" Spot asked from behind Pyro.

At the sound of his voice, Pyro slammed the book shut and stood up. "You." She glared at him. "Nothing good though."

"You don't have to act." He told her. "We're alone up here. Things have been changing between us."

With a sigh, she said, "I need to tell you something and you may not like what I'm gonna say."

"You got a boyfriend or something?" He raised an eyebrow.

Pyro shook her head. Then, with a deep breath, she told him what she needed to tell him. "I know you're worrying about me because of what happened the other night. But, you need to stop following me everywhere I go. Don't get me wrong, I really appreciate you looking out for me but you can't be by my side every single hour of the day."

Spot just stared at her for a minute. He never realized that he was even following her. Suddenly, it was all adding up to him. Then, he just sighed. He could not think of something to say. It was very uncharacteristic of him to even admit to something that Pyro had pointed out of him so he was not going to do that. He could deny it or get mad at her. What was a guy to do? "I haven't been following you. I don't know where you got that idea from." Deny it.

Pyro shook her head. "Typical." Then, she smiled. "I'm going to Sheepshead tomorrow with Race." Her eyes fixated on his. "You're not invited." With those words, she turned and walked away.

"That's what you think." Spot said to himself as he watched her walk away.


	7. The Night Before the Races

That night, Pyro was in Spot's room getting ready for bed. She was in the process of changing out of her clothes and into a night gown. The door swung open and then crashed shut. It was Spot and to his surprise, Pyro was standing there in just her undergarments. She turned around and just stared at him for a moment. "Conlon! Don't you knock?"

"Not when I'm going into my own room." He replied as his eyes wandered over her barely clothed body.

"You share this room with me now…" She stammered as he took a step towards her. "What are you doing?" She took a few steps back.

"Pyro O'Shea, I have a confession for you." He had her backed up against the wall. He placed his hands on either side of her on the wall. Reaching up, he gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I love you." He whispered in her ear.

Pyro took a deep breath as she watched him. "You love me?" She asked as her eyes wandered over his face. "Spot… I… I love you too." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Ever since you saved me from Oscar I've been trying to think of a way to tell you. But, my words usually came out as cursing you for something you've done to make me mad." She ranted on a bit. It was something she did when she was nervous and she had never told anyone she loved them. Never would she think Spot would be the first person she said that to.

"Baby, don't be nervous." He leaned in close to her and captured her lips with his. He slid his tongue along her bottom lip, nipping at it slightly. Then, he let his tongue enter her mouth. Their tongues entwined with one another, massaging and caressing each other. Spot pulled her undershirt over her head, breaking the kiss for a moment.

"You're not just doing this so I'll let you come with me to the races tomorrow, are you?" Pyro asked as she rested her forehead against his. She was only teasing him and they both knew it. "Because if you keep me up all night long then I may just skip the races." She began unbuttoning his shirt. When she reached the last button, she slid it off of his shoulders. She pulled his undershirt out of his pants and over his head.

"Darling, I wouldn't have told you I love you if I didn't mean it." Spot backed up towards the bed, pulling her with him. They both landed on the bed, entwined in one another's arms. Spot cupped Pyro's breasts in his hands as his mouth met hers in another fierce kiss. He rolled them over so that he was on top of her. Their hands explored every inch of each other's bodies. He trailed his hands down over her stomach and then rested them on her hips. He hooked his thumbs in the rim of her panties and tugged them off of her. He tossed them to the side and smirked at her.

Spot placed his hands on either side of her head on the bed and looked at her body. Laying beneath him was the one girl he had always wanted to be with. Pyro O'Shea was completely bare on Spot Conlon's bed. "Back at ya, baby." She trailed her tongue over her lips as her hands fumbled with his pants for a moment. She finally, got her hands steady and unfastened his pants. She pulled them off along with his underwear in one fell swoop.

Spot and Pyro were naked and entangled in each other's bodies. The two had always clashed. Now, it seemed like they were the only two people in the world. They had finally 

confessed their love for one another. After years of build up, they both gave in to what they were hiding from one another.

.


End file.
